by Kate Rudolph
The picture in his file didn’t do him justice.
It was a full body shot, and the outline of his muscles had been clear, even under the thin shirt he’d been wearing. His skin had appeared golden, but not that far off from the tones she saw in some humans. In person, he was a work of art, and there was no mistaking him for someone from Earth. He gleamed. Dark splotches and triangles dotted his arms, and she was reminded of a stalking jungle cat who waited in the trees and dealt death with a single blow. He was looking at her now with a predator’s gaze, frozen in place and ready to pounce.
Her fingers ached to touch him. She took a step closer before she realized what she was doing, and when they were barely more than an arm’s-length apart she made herself stop and planted her feet like she was standing in wet concrete. He didn’t answer her question, and so she tried another.
“What about sexual partners? Do you approve them for your men as well? Or is it merely the act that you order?” What had come over her? This was beyond inappropriate. But she was heated to the core, and she was afraid if she gave another inch she’d launch herself at him and capture his full lips with her own. What did an alien taste like? What did this alien taste like? She’d never wondered before—she must’ve been waiting for this man. And he was the one she couldn’t have.
That thought was a cold wave of reality, and it couldn’t have come a moment too soon. She was here to see if Toran was somehow responsible for the disappearance of a victimized woman. If he’d killed a human or perhaps sold her into slavery, she couldn’t afford to lust after him. She couldn’t afford for her judgment to be called into question. Her entire job, her reputation, depended on it. If Selma caught wind of the fact that she was making eyes at one of the aliens she was supposed to be evaluating, she wouldn’t just ruin this assignment, she’d never be hired by the SDA again.
He smelled so damn good. Masculine, earthy, and with a hint of something she couldn’t define, something she wanted to smell in her sheets. His scent imprinted on her nose and tickled its way into her brain, and she knew if she ever caught a hint of it outside she’d be thinking of him for the rest of the day. This was crazy. She’d never had such a visceral reaction to any man, or alien, before.
And Toran was just as fascinated. But his feet weren’t stuck in metaphorical concrete. His eyes were supposed to be black; she’d spent enough time staring at his photo to know that. And she was almost sure that they had been black when she walked into the room. But now they flashed red, like he was some kind of demon sent to drag her down to hell and show her all of the perverse pleasures that the dark side had to offer. And she was ensorcelled enough to want to go with him.
He stepped forward, and suddenly that small distance between them disappeared. His fingers found her wrist and gently scraped against the sensitive flesh. A shiver raced up her arm and then down her spine, and then through the rest of her body, loosening the roots she planted in the floor. All she had to do was take half a step closer and she’d be pressed up against him. But she had just enough self-control to stay in place.
Toran’s eyes, his fiery red eyes, met hers and singed her to the core. It was like looking into the heart of a volcano. “It isn’t my teammates’ sexual partners that I care about.” His voice sent another shiver through her, as she imagined what he could do with that mouth of his. They’d barely said anything, but that just made her more fascinated. Was he saying that he cared about her sexual partners? Did he care if she was seeing anybody? Or would he throw her down against that weight bench there and take her to the heights of release no matter who existed for her outside of this room? Because inside this room it was just the two of them. The rest of the world had ceased to exist.
His gaze raked down her from head to toe, something proprietary that told her they would have sex, lots of the sweaty kind, and she would love it. She normally hated when guys looked at her like that. But she never wanted Toran to stop. He still had a hold of her wrist, and never breaking eye contact, he raised it to his lips and kissed her fluttering pulse, flicking his tongue out as he pulled away.
She leaned in, her body instinctually closing the distance between them.
Somewhere down the hall outside a door banged shut, the sound loud enough to reverberate off the walls. Iris jumped back, the spell cracked, but not broken. She cleared as much of the room as she could while her mind reeled, and wasn’t satisfied by the distance until she had two weight benches between them. It wouldn’t be enough, not if he was determined, but Toran just breathed heavily and stared at her, as if he could force her to move back with just his eyes. And if she let him stare at her for too long, he might just be able to.
Were all Detyens like this? Nothing in the file had suggested this level of sexual magnetism, so Iris wasn’t sure. But she made a note to add a warning about crazy alien sex pheromones. Because that was what this had to be. Otherwise she didn’t know how she was going to get through this assignment. Not without being debauched by the demonic alien with his golden skin and sexy red eyes. She was so screwed.
IN A SINGLE BLINDING moment, everything Raze had done over the last few weeks made sense to Toran. The man had risked his life and his place in the Detyen Legion for a woman he’d known for a few hours.
Of course he had, she was his denya.
She was worth risking everything. Some small part of him had thought that there was something wrong with Raze, that he wasn’t as soulless as he’d claimed to begin with. How could the denya bond overcome something like that? Now he knew. Toran wasn’t soulless, he hadn’t had to make that decision yet. But he burned for the woman in front of him, and the need to claim her overrode everything else. Yes, this could override soullessness. Easily.
The first thing he noticed, once he could start noticing details, were her big brown eyes. They were wide and the color deep, and if he stared too long he was going to fall into them and drown in their depths. In them he saw a core of inner strength and determination wrapped up with a hint of fear and a longing for understanding. Maybe it was the bond telling him these things; he’d never before been able to read strength and grit and hope and terror in a single glance. But it was all there for him to see. Her long brown hair was braided close to her head and made her pale skin seem even paler. She was tall too, but not quite as tall as him. Human women were shorter than Detyens, and he found he liked that. He liked everything about the woman in front of him, even if he didn’t know her name or anything else about her. But merely brushing his fingers against her wrist was more satisfying than any sexual experience he’d ever had, and at that moment he couldn’t recall any of those meaningless encounters.
When his denya pulled back from him and practically flipped over several pieces of gym equipment, he forced himself to stay in place. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was breathing deep, just as affected by the bond as he was. But she was human, and she had no idea what was going on. If he pressed his advantage, he might sneak a taste of her. But he didn’t want her only for a moment, no, she was his to keep.
With a little space between them, he was starting to get a hold of the bond and could think. Could question. Why was she there? The building he, Kayde, and Dryce were staying in was owned by the SDA. Only SDA personnel were allowed inside. So did she work for them? Was she here to tell him that they could go home? Could he take her with them? They’d have to work that out, because there was no way he was leaving her behind.
“Who are you?” It came out gruff, demanding, and his denya stiffened at his tone. He had to get control of himself, he couldn’t scare her away.
“My name is Iris Mason.” Her voice trembled a little, but the set of her shoulders was determined. “I have a few questions for you. Maybe I should come back later.” The heat was still there in the way her body was canted towards him, leaning forward despite the space between them. And the flames in her eyes could start a fire. But you wouldn’t know it from the tone of her voice. Now she was all business, though he didn’t know whose bus
iness she was.
“Stay,” he demanded. He wanted to curse himself. He’d been leading his men for the better part of a decade, and he’d never relied on this high-handed bullshit before. But put his mate in front of him and he turned into a barbarian who couldn’t control himself.
She stiffened even further, and her jaw set. “I should’ve called first.” She took half a step back, but didn’t turn away from him.
Toran took a deep breath before he spoke and made sure that his tone was even and inviting. “It’s no trouble,” he insisted. He picked up one of the light weights from the rack beside him and moved it from hand to hand, just to do something to keep from crossing the room and boxing her in. “What do you want?” He wanted her, anything else was up for debate.
His new tone seemed to put her at ease, and her eyes were drawn to the bright green weight he was moving from hand to hand. “As I said, I need to ask you some questions.” She stuck her hand into a messenger bag he hadn’t noticed before and pulled out a small tablet, her hand shaking as she scrolled.
Toran was more flustered than he realized, if he hadn’t noticed the giant bag hanging over her shoulder. She could have had a weapon, she could have taken him out in a second, and he wouldn’t have seen it coming. “About what? Who sent you?” Sanity and his duty were starting to war with the bond, and he knew he shouldn’t trust her. Who was Iris Mason? Who did she work for? Who was she, other than his mate?
“I work with the SDA,” she said, though that didn’t answer much. “There are just a few things they want me to go over concerning your visit to Earth.” She held her tablet like a talisman, like it was something that could ward him off and protect her from their fate.
“We just want to go home.” That was what he would have said an hour ago, before she walked into the room. Now going home wasn’t the only thing he wanted. Not when his mate was standing on the other side of the room. Not when he needed to taste her, not when he needed her under him. But she wasn’t ready for that yet. And unless she was about to lead him to a ship, he had time to get her there. They could sort out the rest later.
Iris was oblivious to those thoughts, and nodded at what he said. “I’m here to make that happen.” Her tone was bright, but she was holding something back. He and his men had answered dozens, probably hundreds, of questions from the SDA. They’d given them almost everything they wanted, except for the location of the Detyen HQ. So why was Iris being sent in now?
“Ask your questions.” He was going to find out just why she was here. He was going to find out what the SDA wanted. And he was going to claim his mate, and find a way to keep her by his side. Because one thing was clear. His time on Earth had just become a lot more interesting.
Chapter Three
WHATEVER SPELL HAD captured them seemed to release them just as quickly. After challenging her to ask him questions, Toran was all business. But he was practically hypnotizing her with the way he was moving the small hand weight, tossing it from side to side like it weighed nothing. Well, it only weighed a couple kilos, and to someone as big as him it must have been like moving air.
“Do you mind if I record this?” She technically didn’t need his permission, but she liked to ask. It usually made her subjects think that she respected them.
“That’s fine.” Toran set the weight back on the rack and leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
Iris took a breath and engaged the recorder. Her hands were still shaking and she wished she could shove them into her pockets to hide that. She only hoped that Toran didn’t notice, or if he did, that he didn’t realize it was because of him. “What is your purpose on Earth?” The question sounded philosophical to a human, but Toran didn’t take it that way.
“We’re here to deliver the women we recovered from Fenryr 1.” That was the same answer he’d given three times before. She was inclined to believe it. Though she doubted that it was the whole truth.
“How long do you want to stay here?” Another standard question, and she expected a standard answer.
He didn’t disappoint. “We have no intention of staying longer than you keep us here.” Similar to what he’d said before, she noted.
“Do you hold any ill will towards Earth?” She didn’t expect him to admit it, but she liked to have the answer on the record.
“No.” At least he didn’t seem insulted to be asked.
With those baseline questions out of the way, she could get to the meat of the interview. “What is the nature of the relationship between Sierra Alvarez and Raze NaFeen?” She’d read the files, but everything she inferred about them came from reading between the lines. Technically, Raze was supposed to be living in the same quarters as Toran, Kayde NaDetya, and Dryce NaFeen. But entrance and exit logs indicated that he hadn’t spent a single night there.
Toran’s eyes narrowed, and she noticed that the red had faded. Now they were dark, and should have been impossible to read. “Is that relevant?”
“Yes.” Why else would she ask it? She kept that thought to herself.
He waited a beat to answer, as if he hoped she would withdraw the question. “They are romantically involved,” he conceded.
She had guessed that much, though right now she didn’t want to think about what it meant to be involved romantically with a Detyen. “And does Raze plan to leave with you?” And what would you do if something happened between us? Woah! What the hell was that? Ten minutes with the guy and she was already imagining wedding bells. Alien sex pheromones. That had to explain it.
Thankfully, he couldn’t read her mind. “You will have to ask him,” Toran said evenly.
She had more questions, but that line of inquiry was making her uncomfortable. Right now, she really didn’t want to think about what it would take to romance a Detyen. So she scrolled down further and found her next question. “How many women did you recover from Fenryr 1?” Sometimes the best way to get to the bottom of the problem was to ask.
“Eleven.”
“Eleven?”
“Eleven were returned to Earth,” Toran confirmed.
She knew that much, and he knew that she knew that much. She wasn’t here to play games. “So there were only eleven women being held on the planet?”
“No.” Had he been coached to give single word answers? Did he know that it was wise not to expand on what he told her? Or was this merely how Detyens spoke naturally? No wonder the SDA was frustrated. It was like she was questioning a particularly cagey rock.
“How many?”
She saw a tic as his jaw tightened. “Twelve.”
He was honest, she’d give him that. “And what happened to the twelfth?”
“I don’t know.” His hand flicked down and rested on the rack of weights, but he didn’t pick any of them up. In other circumstances, she might have been worried that he would use them as a weapon. But even though he didn’t seem happy answering these questions, she wasn’t concerned for her safety. Alien sex pheromones, she reminded herself. She needed to be on guard.
“Was she recovered by her abductors?” It took more effort than usual to keep her mind on the questions and not let her emotions show.
“I don’t know,” Toran repeated, his tone the same. Frustrated, but not hiding anything.
“Was she killed?” So many bad things could’ve happened to Laurel, the vanished woman, and it made Iris sick to name them all, but she kept her face a mask of cool disinterest.
“I don’t know,” Toran repeated again, this time more emphatic.
Pushing him wouldn’t get her anywhere. If he didn’t know, he didn’t know. And if he did, he clearly wasn’t ready to tell her. She changed her tactic. “Why don’t you know?”
He let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl. “Because we were busy trying not to be killed by slave traders when she disappeared!” He gave the weight rack a light shove and one of the precariously balanced weights toppled off, echoing in the room.
That was something. “And where was this?”
The point of questioning a subject so ruthlessly was to rattle him. And it was taking more effort than usual to keep her voice even, like she didn’t care what happened to the woman, like she didn’t hope Toran hadn’t done anything unforgivable.
“No comment.” His face shuttered, emotion draining.
Now she had to be careful, because if he shut down she didn’t know if she could get him to open back up. “I’m here to help you. You want to be cleared to leave, and I want to clear you. But you need to answer my questions.”
Toran stared at her with black eyes, not red, and it had nothing to do with whatever had overtaken them when they first caught sight of one another. He didn’t want to be here, not on Earth, not on this room, and certainly not with her. Why that hurt a little, Iris couldn’t say. But she wanted the truth, she needed it. And that meant she needed to get to the bottom of this. But before she could start a new line of questions, the door to the gym opened and one of the other Detyens stuck his head inside.
This one was kind of a bluish-green, and a bright smile lit up his face when he saw her. She knew the type—players were the same no matter what planet you were on, no matter what species they came from. Been there, done that, had the stolen car and broken heart to show for it, along with the scars no one could see. But this guy couldn’t see that she was already on the verge of telling him off from one little grin.
“Hello,” he said, all smiles, stepping further into the room, now closer to her than Toran.
And then things got a little weird. Toran growled, actually literally freaking growled. Had she thought he was some kind of cat before? No, he was a wolf. And he pushed himself off the wall with the same fluid grace, and bounded across the room until he placed himself between her and the other Detyen, like he was trying to protect her from the playboy.